


Come Back

by stardropdream



Category: X/1999
Genre: 5 Sentence Fiction, F/M, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 05:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of drabbles for Sorashi from the 5 Sentence Fic Challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Back

**Alacrity / Smile / Content**

 

Her sword drags across the ground as she approaches him and he stares at her with that same look of shock that he wore when their eyes first met – and she feels as if, perhaps, she should know him but there’s only that gnawing emptiness inside of her, the gaping hole that informs her that before, there was _nothing._ He says her name, softly, and she thinks to herself that he didn’t always call her that, and though he smiles at her she can’t place the memory that tries to drag its nails across the back of her mind – not, she does not know this man, no matter what it is he says.

 

She does not respond to his words, simply fights with him, and he dodges back, refuses to hurt her even though she can sense that he is powerful, more powerful than she, who uses a sword she is unfamiliar with – she keeps her eyes on him and he keeps trying to smile at her, catch her eye with a kind of eagerness that she does not understand – he calls her beautiful, calls to her and tells her to remember it all, but she does not – there is nothing to remember.

 

He chokes a little when the sword slices through his stomach, imbedding there, as she knew it would if he continued to dodge in the manner that he dodges – and somewhere, distantly, there is a spike of fear inside of her although she does not understand it (for why should she regret this death, why should she fear it above all others?) and he breathes out sharply, his entire body poised to pull away even as he lacks the strength.

 

“Neechan – Arashi,” he whispers, his voice soft, lifting a hand to touch her cheek as he smiles and, somehow, he seems content and even that somehow manages to disturb her as nothing else did (and again there is that spike of fear, that spike of thinking _this is what I wished to avoid above all else_ ), “Forgive me… forgive me…”

 

She feels nothing and yet the words build in her mouth, bitter and vicious and desperate; it would be so easy to refuse, to whisper out _and what if I don’t –_ but she doesn’t say the words and instead steps back, disengaging from him, pulling the sword from him and his eyes shut and he falls and the empty air rushes between them and as she turns away she ignores the smile that quirks up his mouth in a way she thinks she used to love. 

 

 

\---

 

**Patience / Alexithymia / Argue**

 

“Ow,” Sorata says, flinching, when Arashi rests her hand against his broken arm without realizing it – she flinches back, mouth opening in protest, her entire body shaking with the strange combination of worry and relief and the nervous expectancy she feels now that he’s undone the first few buttons of her uniform.

 

“We shouldn’t—” she begins but Sorata shakes his head, leaning up and kissing her again, his touch gentle and patient and it robs her of all her senses and her ability to breathe, her eyes fluttering shut with a shuddered little gasp, her entirety on fire, unable to discern this intimacy – she does not know, she does not understand.

 

It’s all too much.

 

“Talk to me,” Sorata coaxes, his breath ghosting over her mouth as he pulls away to kiss over her jaw and her cheek, lingering at each trail a tear left before – she clenches her eyes shut, her heart stuttering in her chest, her hands shaking as she touches the places that aren’t hurt, touches him with such unfamiliarity and concern that she wonders at his ability to smile like that. 

 

“I… I can’t,” she whispers, her breath short, her cheeks flushed red as he peels away the last of her uniform dress and she’s shaking under his touch – she seems to remember herself enough to shake her head and push him, letting him roll backwards so he’s lying flat again, concerned for those injuries – injuries he received protecting her, like the idiot he is, and she feels a faint spark in her chest (anger? She thinks so). 

 

“Should I be complimented?” he asks with a laugh but sobers a bit when he sees her expression – his smile softens, “It’s alright…” he leans up and kisses her again but she pushes him back down and he stutters out a little laugh, “Alright, alright, I should know better than to argue with you…” – and he closes his eyes as she tentatively strips him of his hospital gown.

 

 

\---

 

 

**Anything / Close / Desperate**

 

“Anything,” is Sorata’s response when Arashi asks him what she should do.  Her hands are shaking and her face is still stained with tears and she’s so sure that there’s no way she can seem pretty to him right now, but even as she thinks that she knows it’s foolish because Sorata is smiling up at her, so gently and sweet, even though the bandages are slipping down off his forehead and threatening to cover one eye.

 

“You shouldn’t move so much,” she says, self-conscious even as Sorata pulls her close so that she’s lying on top of him – she almost scowls when his broken arm touches at her back and she sees him just barely manage to repress that flinch.

 

But then he kisses her again and she stops talking and stops thinking and all she can feel in that moment is Sorata.  And how desperately she wanted to have him always – protected. 

 

 

 


End file.
